Page 27 of Dr. Billionaire's Fake Marriage

The surgical procedure went better than expected. Troy was focused on the patient on the table most of the time; he only told me to do the closure.

I avoided his eyes and realized that working with Troy after last night wasn't going to be as bad as I thought it would be.

We both have the responsibility to prevent making things awkward between us. We are both adults who know what they want.

Amelia's call comes in as soon as my shift is over. I can only assume that her shift is also over, and she wants to meet up for some gossip.

I ignore her call, but she is standing by her car in the hospital parking lot, waiting to hijack me again.

I sigh, walking to her. I start to tell her about what happened last night. She tells me she doesn't want to hear it now; she wants to discuss it over a drink.

I oblige, taking this as the hanging out we missed the last time. Amelia takes the corner table; she doesn't wait for the waiter to take our order before she asks about Troy.

"What happened with you two," she asks promptly, even though she already knows I had sex with Troy.

I am glad the waiter comes around before I can answer. We go through the menu and opt for hamburgers.

I wait till the waiter is out of sight as if preventing him from hearing the news. "It is just a one-time thing," I tell her. "We were just caught up in the moment."

She looks at me like she is expecting more details. "Can I get details?" I wink and watch her laugh so hard, but the excitement fades.

"I am glad you are exploring your sexuality, but I am more concerned with the person you are exploring it with," she says candidly.

I take her hands. "Troy Robinson's mother will not let this happen. She is all about class and family; Troy knows that more than anyone." Amelia is mad at Troy for sleeping with me when he knows we both can't enter into a relationship.

"Troy didn't make me do it," I reply.

"I did it because I wanted to, and Troy was just there at that moment." I assure her, "It is a one-time thing, and it won't happen again."

I am not sure if I am promising Amelia or myself. I decide to look at the sex as a random event. But Amelia knows I am not one to have a one-time thing, and she is concerned.

She finally smiles at me. "I don't want your heart broken…and falling for Troy Robinson is the first step."

I nod in agreement. I know better than falling for a man whose social class is far above mine. I am glad as the waiter comes back with our hamburgers. We watch him place each plate before us, and Amelia talks about an announcement.

"Henry is proposing to me Friday night," she says as she digs into the juicy burger.

"What?" I say in disbelief. "You know when he is proposing to you? Is that not supposed to be a surprise? I mean, that is how it is done."

"That's how it is done in movies," Amelia corrects me, "and in love or romantic relationships. Our marriage is strictly for the family business and nothing more." She chuckles, trying to hide the sadness in her eyes.

I can see how she desperately wants to live a normal life. She wants to be a regular girl who falls in love with a guy and grows a family with love. But she can't have that life and seems to have accepted it.

Amelia continues, "Everyone knows he is proposing, and the family is going to tip off the media for the grand proposal to be on every news outlet. I want you there. I want you to give me the moral support I need to endure the overwhelming event."

“I will be there for you,” I promise.

****

Amelia drops me by the house after our fun meal. She promises to hang out for hours after she is finished with the whole engagement thing. I hold her to her promise and watch her car zoom out to the street.

Mother is making supper already; she tells me that she called last night when she didn't see me come home. "I slept off at Amelia's," I lie.

“Someone sent this to the house.” She comes to the living room with a bouquet. The note reads:You know already.I take the bouquet to my nose, smelling the lovely white roses.

I am unsure who would send me flowers, but I can only think of man I had slept with.

Is this some sort of "last night was great" present? Is Troy still living in the early eighties, where you thank a girl for fucking you?

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